Strange Dreams Part One: And Then They Were Babies
by Oconee Belle
Summary: "Okay, Rob, breathe. You know this would never really happen!" But it was happening...


Hogan jerked awake from a deep sleep. Something was not right. He sat up and listened. Was that crying? Who…? No, it wasn't one of his men. It was a baby.

He slowly slipped from bed and cracked open his door. The barracks was still cloaked in semi-darkness, but the crying was louder. It was coming from this room. Why hadn't it woken up one of his men? And then it hit him. Where were his men?

"Kinch!" he hissed, taking a cautious step into the room. Aside from a small lump in his second in command's bed, there was nothing there. It was the same for every bunk. Except, the lump in LeBeau's bed was moving. And crying.

Hogan forgot all about being quiet and flew at the bunk. Sure enough, there was a baby, crying his eyes out. "Shh, come here," he lifted the baby from the blankets. "Where did you come from? And, what happened to my men?" That's when he took a closer look at the shadowy face and his heart stopped beating. The face was vaguely familiar. This _was_ one of his men.

"LeBeau?! No, no, no, it can't be!" he rushed over to Carter and Newkirk's bunk and pulled back the blankets. Two more babies. _They_ started to stir. _He_ started to panic. "Kinch?!"

He couldn't believe his eyes! All of his men were babies. All of them. LeBeau continued to wail in his arms, but for a second he was just numb. This was unbelievable. "Okay, Rob, breathe. You know this would never really happen!" But it was happening. Newkirk was rolling over and almost falling from the top bunk. "No!" somehow, Hogan managed to swap LeBeau to just one arm _and_ catch Newkirk with the other.

He took in a sharp breath and willed his heart to leave his throat and go back down into his chest. Who else was on a top bunk? Kinch. Okay. He gently sat the two now wide awake baby corporals down on Carter's bunk and quickly retrieved Kinch.

Now the bottom bunk had four babies. Four! All of them were his men and most of them were crying. No, wailing. What on earth was he supposed to do? And how, pray tell, was he going to explain this to Schultz, let alone Klink?

"Uh, Kommandant, funny thing, really. Probably not worth mentioning…?"

Between preparing powdered milk at the table, and rushing back and forth in the process to keep his men, no, babies, from falling off the bed, Hogan was pretty winded by the time he finally sat down to feed them.

"LeBeau," he panted. "LeBeau goes first, sorry fellas. You know what they say: the early bird catches the worm." But, LeBeau was treating the milk like it was a worm. He spit it out and had the most disgusted look on his face. If Hogan wasn't so unnerved, he probably would have laughed. But this wasn't funny. He was on the receiving end of most of the spat out milk.

He could have sworn LeBeau's first word was 'barbarious'. "Okay, okay, so you're picky at this age too. Nice to know. Whenever all this straightens out I'm sending your mom a condolence card." He looked around the group of hungry, sobbing babies and wondered who to feed next.

Newkirk wasn't crying, but he was crawling up into Hogan's lap and shoving LeBeau out of the way. LeBeau was not very happy about that arrangement and got that look in his eye Hogan was very familiar with. The one that always warned them that an approaching tsunami of French words was lurking just on the horizon.

"Hey, Newkirk, er, Peter," maybe using their given names might help. Who knows? "Calm down, will ya? You'll get your turn too!" He gently put LeBeau on the floor where the French "corporal" abruptly plopped down, melting, his eyes overrunning with pitiful tears. "Don't look at me like that! It's not my fault you only like French cuisine!"

With a sigh, Hogan started giving Newkirk a sip of the milk. Newkirk, who had to be at least one, maybe one and a half, grabbed the can from his hands and started gulping, spilling it everywhere in the process.

Hogan only closed his eyes and said in exasperation, "What was I thinking? I'm sure they can eat solid food!" By now Carter was curiously watching Newkirk make a royal mess. Really, this whole thing was ridiculous! So ridiculous, Hogan found himself laughing as he fought the temptation to rip out all of his hair.

Baby LeBeau couldn't see how any of this was funny and his bottom lip began to quiver. "I know, right? I feel like doing the same thing myself!" Hogan shook his head at LeBeau with a smile. The kind of smile that tells everyone you're about to scream. Loudly.

Instead, Hogan huffed, scooped up LeBeau and plunked him down on the table. He began rummaging through his Red Cross parcel and laid out two candy bars and a package of cookies. When he looked up, LeBeau had stopped crying and was trying to catch his breath. He had also obviously taken an interest in what Hogan was doing.

Carter and Newkirk, on the other hand, were fighting over who got the empty milk can, and Kinch was sitting quietly, calmly even, letting them solve their problem. "Fellas! Fellas, that can is sharp!" Hogan ran to the bed of babies and pried Newkirk's fingers from the can.

"See, sharp? That's a no-no." He found himself grinning as he wagged a finger in front Newkirk's mischievous face. How many times had his mom wasted her breath telling him that when he was growing up?

When he got back to the table, LeBeau was pulling out more items from the Red Cross package, studying them very carefully. "A chef in the making, huh Louie? I guess some people really are born knowing what they want to be when they grow up."

LeBeau started chattering either excitedly or reproachfully as he looked through the package. Probably reproachfully, by the insulted look on his face as he saw all that precious food stored away in cans.

Hogan rolled his eyes and held out a cookie, "I know it's no Crepe Suzette, but will this do?"

LeBeau's brown eyes lit up and he forgot all about the package, reaching with tiny hands for the cookie. Hogan gave it to him and watched him gnaw on it in satisfaction. There was something amusing about this whole situation after all. Well, something amusing,_ and_ frightening.

He turned to the other three and pulled out another cookie. "Hey, Cart- Andrew, stop that crying! Look what _I_ have!"

Carter didn't have the same reaction as LeBeau. Not by a long shot. It was a lot less graceful. He started trembling with joy and making gurgling noises, kicking his chubby legs with a squeal. Hogan started laughing for a second time when he saw the look of sheer disgust on Newkirk's face as the baby Englander watched Carter's happy dance.

Hogan scooped Carter up and sat him in his lap, "Just don't go and swallow it whole! Your mom would kill me!"

Carter gobbled it down and looked up at him with an open mouth. Hogan shook his head and reached for another cookie, but the box was gone. "Huh?" he looked down. It was on the bench just a second ago.

And then he saw the bare foot sticking out from under the bunk. He didn't have to guess, he knew who that was. "Hey Peter, enjoying those cookies down there?" The foot instantly disappeared, and seconds later so did the rest of the cookies.

Kinch slid down from the bunk and crawled over to peer under the bed. Hogan thought he saw the baby sergeant roll his eyes. But, no, he couldn't have. Wasn't he too young for that?

And then the dreaded pounding on the barracks door. "Roll call! Roll call! Everyone out! Raus! Raus! Raus!" When Schultz popped his head in, he did a double take and threw himself inside, slamming the door behind him.

"Colonel Hogan! What are you doing with all those babies, and where are the prisoners?"

"Right here," Hogan set his chin on Carter's soft blond head and started counting. "One, two, three, four, and I make five. Yep, all here." It never occurred to him why none of the other men of barracks two were there. Surprisingly, it never occurred to Schultz either.

Schultz marched over and looked baby Carter up and down for a long second, before nodding solemnly. "That is him alright." And then his eyes got large, "Colonel Hogan, _why_ are they _babies_?!"

"I don't know, Schultzie. I'm trying to figure that out myself, actually."

"Well, hurry it up! The big guy will not be _very_ happy!" Schultz took one last look at baby Carter and instantly his heart melted. "Oh, Colonel Hogan, I sure hope we can keep them!"

Hogan couldn't help thinking that it sounded like Schultz was begging his mom for kittens, or puppies, not real life babies. "Yeah, me too, Schultz. Me too." Preferably they'd turn back into his men, but, if worse came to worst, he had some experience from growing up with his baby sister.

The door to the barracks closed softly behind Schultz, and Hogan found himself rushing to get everyone ready for morning roll call. Now he knew how his mother must have felt trying to herd them all out the door for church.

Baby Carter would not sit still. Newkirk would not come out from under the bed. LeBeau would not stop crawling away from him. But Kinch, yes Kinch, sat perfectly still, waiting at the door.

Finally, after getting his hair full of dust from an excursion under the bed, stubbing his toe while diving for LeBeau who had almost touched the stove, _and_ a hand covered in slobber from digging matches out of Carter's mouth, he had a nice wiggling pile of babies on the floor.

"Okay," he fought to catch his breath and flung open the door. "Let's go. Raus!"

They looked at him. He cleared his throat, "As in, move it!"

They tilted their heads. "As in Simon says go out the door!" Hogan took a step outside and one by one each baby crawled out. He threw back his head, trying not to cry tears of pure joy. Despite himself, he was very proud of this small victory.

And, as he looked down the somewhat tidy line of babies, he began to thank heaven that he had survived thus far _and _was able to keep his sanity in the process. That was until Klink came out.

The door was viciously thrown open and out crawled a bald baby sucking on a monocle.

That's when Hogan lost it completely and burst out laughing. He laughed until his sides hurt and tears were rolling down his face. Beside him, baby Newkirk started to giggle, followed by LeBeau, then Carter. And then, they were _all_ laughing.

All he heard was laughing. Klink spit out his monocle and started to cry, which, of course, made them all laugh even harder.

"'Ey Guv, what's so funny?"

"Oui, Colonel, what are you _laughing_ about?"

"Boy, would you look at that! I've heard of sleep walking, but never sleep laughing!"

"Just let him laugh. Goodness knows after last night he needs it. Come on, guys, let's go back to bed."

Kinch's voice echoed in his dream and he heard them quietly slip out of his room. _Thank you, Kinch! Thank you! _Yes, he absolutely needed this. So, he dared another look at the Iron Eagle of Stalag 13, who was throwing a temper tantrum on the door step._  
_

The End

**Author's Note:**

**H****opefully this story is not terrible, just different. Please bear with me! I have this written out as a series of five, and I can almost 100% guarantee you'll like at least one of them! Or, I _hope_ you will anyway.**

**I edited this story because I had baby LeBeau holding a can of beans...when American prisoners didn't get any canned beans in their Red Cross packages. There were so many kinds of Red Cross packages, I must have gotten mixed up. Or, maybe I mistook them for New Zealand prisoners of war who got peas and lamb. Who knows?**

**Also, it is pretty unrealistic for a baby to be able to lift a heavy can of beans. Or, so I was told by my mom who raised four of them. **


End file.
